


The Last Time

by imaginivity



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginivity/pseuds/imaginivity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Tw: death (and alcohol? It's very briefly mentioned)</p><p>This was just a short drabble I wrote when I was stuck on Remnants of Humanity. Enjoy? Read and review if you have the time</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: death (and alcohol? It's very briefly mentioned)
> 
> This was just a short drabble I wrote when I was stuck on Remnants of Humanity. Enjoy? Read and review if you have the time

The first time Gavin heard the dreaded three words, he laughed it off as a joke, wishing the man he spoke with wouldn’t say something so ridiculous. The second time, he heard but wasn’t listening; his mind distracted him from hearing the truth. The third time echoed in his head and prompted him to ask, “What?”

His eyes glassed over at the fourth time the words were repeated. Questions of why and when were discussed, but they only resulted in furthering the Brit’s sadness, confusion, and anger. The phone call ended after he was given a date and a place.

The fifth time he heard those words occurred when he was drunk, attempting to erase the pain, even if only for a few hours. His head had replayed the night’s discussion over and over again. Damn his mind.

Gavin woke up the next morning with a hangover when he heard it for a sixth time, simply a mental reminder; it wasn’t a nightmare, you poor soul. The seventh time happened when Geoff repeated the words in disbelief. Gavin had called the older man for some type of comfort or advice, of course. He uttered the words in despair, allowing them to be heard an eighth time.

The ninth time, he’d been explaining to Burnie why he was taking work off, using sick days that’d built up over the years from never being taken. His boss understood and offered the man a hug, repeating the words for the tenth time in two days as he tried to offer his condolences.

The eleventh time was when Michael asked what was wrong. Rage filled the other man up, and the knowledge continued to slam Gavin into anguish.  The curly haired man pulled him into a hug, repeating “I’m sorry,” and patting the thinner man’s back. The action didn’t have a positive effect, and it only caused more tears to fall.

His mind repeated it to him for the twelfth time as he packed his bags that night. Expectedly, he didn’t get any sleep. How could he?

The words remained at bay during the first half of his plane ride. As he slept during the second half of the flight, the three words weren’t spoken, but rather, they were shown in the form of a nightmare. He awoke with a start and began to silently cry. He didn’t care that the woman sitting next to him stared. She didn’t matter. Not then.

The thirteenth time occurred when he was getting ready the next morning, his mind replaying them again and again as he fumbled with his tie. Somehow, it was easier to hold back the tears as he looked himself in the eye through the mirror; _you can’t do that right now, Gavin._

The fourteenth time he heard them was during the service, the words having left his trembling lips as he spoke to familiar faces. He wiped away the tears and continued to speak with his cracked voice and reddened eyes. He didn’t feel alone in his misery; everyone else present was in a similar condition.

After his words, there was silence. Everyone made their way to the casket, placing their hands momentarily onto its surface and whispering a few words before walking away. The line seemed to take forever to shorten, and Gavin was at the end of it all; then again, he was glad for that.

He was the last to reach the casket. His hands lay on it’s top, and his knees began to wobble.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Dan,” he whispered with his broken voice. If it would’ve been allowed, he would have crashed to his knees and curled into a sobbing mess. He couldn’t of course; his best friend’s family and friends were there. So instead, he whispered to his friend. “I know you’re up there looking out for me, B.”

The fifteenth time, the last time, the words were altered and added to. Of course, it was necessary.

“I’m sorry you were killed. I wish I had you back.”


End file.
